


Victors with a Price

by HQ_Wingster



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, First Love, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Dialogue, POV Victor Nikiforov, Slice of Life, Slow Romance, Social Media, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: Five-time World Champion but in reality, a lonely pianist who loved scratching behind Makkachin's ears and watch reruns of his favorite cartoons. That was Viktor's Life for a long time. Balance between being suave for the media and being a lovable goofball towards his friends, family, and his loyal Makkachin. Knowing that he'll retire in a few years and without an aim of what to do next, Viktor has been keeping tabs on the rising younger skating generation that will ultimately take his place.More than just his heart and attention were stolen from a certain Dark Horse from the East. Yuuri Katsuki--aka, skaterKatsudon--was a gold medal that Viktor would pay any price for. Even if, he had to sacrifice something so that Yuuri could win his own gold.





	Victors with a Price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do something very different from what I usually do. I typically always type stories from Yuuri's POV, so I decided to type from Viktor's because it's a POV that I rarely explore and I think it'll be fun to write for a lovable goofball. This is going to be interesting because throughout this story, there will not be a single line of dialogue. That's a personal challenge that I made for myself.
> 
> I'm always so caught up in writing dialogue that the dialogue doesn't sound natural or it doesn't have a place in the greater scheme of things, so I want to write a story based on an individual's thoughts and their body language. Sometimes, we typer focus so much on dialogue that we fail to include what's going on in the scene when all the talking is happening so I want to change that and try a different style from what I usually do. I hope you enjoy!

    The night brought a different breed of people. Hooked figures with a slow gait, approaching towards the iron gates separating this reality from the dejected versions of their own. A melodic jazz piano echoing in the distance while it snowed. The platinum hair of the pianist illuminated against the backdrop of a bar window. Gentle steps of the pedals, gentle nods along the sweet melody that carried the booze and trapped souls living under one roof. A sleeve of tattoos skating across barren skin, flexing with the muscles as the hands skipped and hopped. From white key, to black key, and back to white key.

    The usual mop of bangs nodding along to the beat. Teal eyes hidden deep inside as money was stuffed down the collar, down the sleeves, poured onto the lap, and a woman blew a heart-shaped smoke ring into the pianist’s direction. This was the Life he had always known, and he couldn’t imagine a better seduction than opening his eyes and grinning to a couple of women and men. That suave grin carved into his face with the strings of appeal tied around his little pinkie fingers. Reeling the audience in until it was too late to escape his bite.

    World-renowned figure skater, here in a bar at St. Petersburg. Playing the sweet jazz of a piano while drinks were shared and passed about. Winking when he could for the extra tip on his jar and sharing a glass with the patrons. Water spilling down his chin and darkening his front until he escaped from this Life and retreated to his apartment space. Where a fuzzy Makkachin dutifully waited and slobbered over his lap. Pawing into Viktor’s clothes and resting his great big head over his owner's chest.

    Viktor scratched under Makkachin’s chin and kissed the poodle on the nose. Makkachin licked him back. This was the Life Viktor had always known. Do well on the World’s Stage with performances that left the audience on the edge of its seat. Retreat back home with a head held high while golden medals shackled one’s feet with each step. Escape into the world of seduction and _mystique_ in a lonely bar with music down one’s throat. White and black keys serving as the ice for fingers to skate across. Show up at practice one day and feel the wrath of Yakov while miniscule strands of hair disappeared from his hairline. Rinse and repeat.

    Mix in cute moments with cutie Makkachin, and massage the big old poodle until both parties were satisfied and happy. Act aloof towards the world, but with an air of mystery to keep them thirsting for more. Act like a dutiful pupil, but forget the words and choreograph to a story that needed to be told. Act suave and flash a smile, but just desire alone time with the comfort of a poodle. While the jazz turned into kiddie rhymes to lull one to sleep in their grave. Rinse and repeat.

    That was the party Viktor knew for all his Life. Simple allegations, seen as illegal and as a crime because they came from him. In spirit and from appearance. But here on the couch with his loving companion, Viktor could only sigh and hold up the mask to the light while goofy smiles ran over his face. Nightly cartoons broadcasted until dawn. Some nights, Viktor just stayed on the couch and watched TV with Makkachin. Makkachin drooled over Viktor’s clothes while the latter watched reruns of black and white shows from his youth.

    Of a man who was an undercover royal, who fell in Love with a woman that had two sides like a flipped coin, and of the passionate glances and winks that tore down their boundaries until they were together and then forced apart. That was Viktor’s favorite cartoon. A cheerful blend of humor, mystique, action, and drama. Watching the reruns painted a sorrowful smile over Viktor’s lips. Shows weren’t like that anymore. They focused too much on appearances and interest at first sight than a gradual build up to something... _more._ Well, Viktor couldn’t complain. He was putting on the same persona for showcase’s sake. People were really into something that they couldn’t have, and Viktor just played along.

    Perhaps one day, he could try a new theme inspired by cartoons! Wouldn’t that be fun? Silly costumes with a pink feather boa. Funny little gadgets strapped around his waist as he attempted quads while painting an action scene from his favorite cartoon. That was a dream. He will have to pitch the idea to Yakov later. Maybe he can do it right now. Viktor grabbed his phone and dialed Yakov’s number, but it was already late. The elderly man was probably asleep and if not, browsing through the library for new songs for his pupils. Picking _the best_ songs that brought more pop to a skater’s moves. Yakov was always good at that. _Yes,_ Viktor missed his old coach. Did Yakov miss him back?

    Viktor will have to stop by later for a little chat. A little chat would turn into a lecture, and Viktor would pretend to listen before escaping into the mysterious backdrop of a world he longed to know. While Viktor was the rising _King_ towards the West, there was a _Dark Horse_ mounted on the East. A horse who attempted four quads and passed with rainbow marks to reach his pot of gold. The gold being a first place medal hung over his neck while the black curtain of his outfit swished with each wave. Like a black, flowing dress with a shawl to match.

    Viktor knew the skater. _Yuuri Katsuki._ The name had a nice ring, rolling off of Viktor’s tongue like sweet, sweet candy. Sometimes, Viktor purposely tuned to international streams to watch the local and big competitions that Yuuri participated in. Anything to catch a step sequence, a story element for a song that Viktor never noticed before, or to marvel in awe when the _Dark Horse_ pulled and played all the major jumps in the second half of a performance. Yuuri’s stamina was incredible! Eventually, Viktor found himself skating along to these performances on an ice rink in St. Petersburg. Trying the step sequences out, making minute changes to where jumps were, and to add his signature flair to make the performance his own.

    On top of practices and playing a piano late into the night at a bar, Viktor tried uploading YouTube videos of these skate runs. A little slice of cake for the fans, and a little kiss and Love from Russia to the rest of the world. And then to Viktor’s surprise one day, Yuuri tagged him in his own YouTube video. The Japanese skater ran a very Yuuri-inspired performance of _Stammi Vicino,_ a lovely Italian vocal from Viktor’s last season’s run. Of course, Viktor couldn’t have Yuuri one up him.

    Pushing a piano onto the ice, Viktor produced looped tracks of a song of his own design and choreographed his story for the entire world to see. _Especially Yuuri._ The rush of skates and feet along the ice, followed by Viktor’s favorite jump before mixing in the story elements that set the ship straight to home. Carefully calculated jumps settled in, depending on how Viktor felt and if his body was ready for the impact. But like always, Viktor ended each performance with a posture that noted how he felt. For this performance, he ended with an arm stretched out. Waiting longingly for someone to reach out and grab his hand.

    Yuuri uploaded his own performance soon afterwards. Editing his video in a special way. One half of the screen showcased Yuuri with thick-framed glasses and a viola over his shoulder. Cheeks kissed with fire when he glanced into the camera. The other half of the screen showcased his alter-ego on the ice. Hair slicked back, delicate gloves concealing his hands, and face pointed down to the ice. Like a raven perched on a nimble branch, staring down at all those who could see. The Yuuri on the left began playing his viola. The Yuuri on the right skated in sync with the music, turning the music into his own and conveying a story that no eye could dare to look away.

    When Viktor thought about it, he realized that each video ended in a very special way. Viktor noticed that he would end with cheerful waves with a sneak cameo from Makkachin back at home. Yuuri ended his videos with an exhausted but excited look. Pulling his black gloves off with his teeth and waving cheerfully at the camera while friends cheered in the background. Those videos brought a lot of warmth to Viktor’s Life, coloring the aspects that used to be black and white.

    In the present of now, Viktor woke up and was about to go to the local ice rink when he saw an email in his inbox. An invitation to a little party in Moscow. A _masquerade_ one. A few international guests were coming, and the party’s host wanted Viktor to skate for the grand finale. At the same time, Makkachin barged into the bedroom and hopped onto his owner’s lap. Wagging his furry tail when Viktor scratched behind his ears. Kissing Makkachin’s wet nose, Viktor replied back that he would do it and biked all the way to the local ice rink. He thought about reusing an old routine but at the same time, Viktor wanted to do something eye-catching. Something that people couldn’t look away from. Maybe incorporate parts of his own Life into the dance so that people would know him, without having to speak to him.

    So for that day’s YouTube video, Viktor explained that he wasn’t going to upload a routine anytime soon. Practice and make his mark on history for a fancy masquerade party in Moscow. Ending the video with a question on what he should wear to said party, Viktor skated to the rink’s edge and browsed through his music library for something... _him._ A song that showed a funkier side to him. Something funny and unexpected, but secretive like that old undercover cartoon from his youth. Something playful, but dangerous. It wasn’t too late to do a cartoon-inspired theme after all, and Viktor pounced on the idea in a heartbeat.

    Comments flooded in on his YouTube video. A few disappointments here and there, but a lot of encouragement and a lot of answers to choose from. From cosplay to a simple but messy suit and tie that held no place. Viktor liked all the responses and had a good chuckle when he read a choice-few. One stood out to him in particular. One from _skaterKatsudon,_ Yuuri Katsuki’s YouTube channel. Though the skater apologized if his English was incomprehensible, Viktor saw no faults in it. It was very well put together, courtesy to the five years living in Detroit while training under Coach Celestino. Viktor teased a strand of his hair as he reread the comment, again and again.

    Yuuri was also coming to the party, and he was also invited to skate to something. Since the party was in Moscow and since Yuuri was a foreigner, he wondered if Viktor would take him around. Go sight-seeing before attending the masquerade party. Perhaps help out with a few things in his routine before the actual showcase. Hundreds of likes popped onto the comment immediately, and long columns of replies trailed after the comment. Fans from both channels pleading for Viktor to say the one magical word. _Yes._

Viktor cocked his head to the side. It’ll be fun to meet a strong skater that he had admired from afar, and Yuuri seemed like a very fun person to hangout with. An easy and polite voice with sweet cinnamon eyes hidden behind cute glasses. Maybe Viktor could learn a few Japanese phrases to make Yuuri feel at home in the heart of Russia. That was a good idea. High-fiving himself, Viktor finally replied back. He looked forward to sight-seeing with Yuuri, and Yuuri replied back with a cute little character he made through the special symbols on his phone’s keyboard. Viktor received a character-made hug, and the Russian pianist sent back a character-made heart and kiss before fans exploded in tears and blood.

    A few weeks until the party. Viktor settled on easy step sequences since it was his off-season. A quad or two slipped in during his jumps, and Viktor gritted his teeth with each landing. His back ached, and it was harder to keep a proper posture when Viktor just wanted to slouch forward and catch something before falling. His heart was taking a true bruising, and Viktor felt his blood grow thin with each practice run. Viktor _was_ getting old. A bit of a dinosaur compared to the youth that came into the skating world. In a year or two, Viktor will have to retire and spend the rest of his Life doing something else. Perhaps, pursue a piano career with his trusty keyboard. Or maybe, help out at an animal shelter and adopt puppies for Makkachin to lick and cuddle.

    That was for later, not now. Right now, Viktor needed pain killers and a large glass of water. Back at home, he enjoyed a chicken salad from the local market while he scratched Makkachin’s fuzzy head with his foot. Digging his toes into the poodle’s fur, Viktor munched through carrots and cucumbers before tackling an iceberg lettuce that emerged from the depths of ranch dressing. Flipping through the channels on TV. Too early for cartoon reruns, too late to see the news stories around Russia, and too bored to glance at commercial breaks. Viktor switched to his phone and browsed through YouTube.

    An old rival and colleague, _Chris Giacometti,_ uploaded a few vlogs about him and his boyfriend. Little snippets here and there. Mostly, Chris only uploaded personal skating videos, but he was making a comeback with some seasonal vlogs to cheer up the skating community. The Swiss skater was retiring for good and vlogging for the meantime while he searched for something to do in his Life. In a year or two, Viktor will be in Chris’ situation and the latter couldn’t imagine what chapter was next after figure skating. Viktor knew he should watch Chris’ videos, but not for today.

    His old coach, Yakov, had a YouTube account. No videos, but he was a police on the site. Making sure that his pupils didn’t post anything that they’ll regret later. Yakov used to harp Viktor so much about that, but not anymore since Viktor was his own pupil now. Like a loving coach, Yakov was subscribed to all of his pupil’s channels. To Viktor’s amazement, Yakov was still subscribed to him. Viktor will have to pop in a call to the old coach again for good time’s sake. _That’ll be a laugh._ Haha.

    Skimming down the channels of those that Viktor knew, he paused and clicked on _skaterKatsudon._ The _Dark Horse_ of Japan uploaded a few snippets of a performance he was going to do for the Moscow party. Showcased a new costume too. Black fabric with some see-through portions. A hint of a red cape from behind, tied around the waist portion so that it can catch the wind. Yuuri liked the color red. Always incorporated the color into all of his costumes, in some way or form. Teal crystals sewn along the torso, sprouting from his chest before erupting into a blossom at his hips. Yuuri only showcased the costume, but there was a teaser video that showed his skates gliding along the ice. It was a low shot, only showcasing the skates, but observant viewers noticed the black fabric along Yuuri’s ankles and concluded that Yuuri was _indeed_ practicing in costume.

    Yuuri always had a way of making his videos eye-catching and memorable, leaving the audience wanting more. Viktor commented a few hearts on the video before catching up with all that the skater had uploaded. The most recent video was a vlog of Yuuri emerging from a Russian airport and kissing the falling snow. Flakes dusted in his hair, Yuuri spoke about how he was excited but really nervous all at the same time. Sending an air-kiss to the audience, Yuuri mentioned that he couldn’t wait to meet _v-Nikiforov_ in real life.

    It took a moment before Viktor realized that _he_ was _v-Nikiforov._ Yuuri couldn’t wait to meet him. Spilling his chicken salad, Viktor kicked his feet back and forth over the couch like a little school boy. Scared, Makkachin pushed his food bowl away from Viktor’s feet and munched quietly while his owner squeaked and was youthful again. Almost as if his backaches were gone forever.

    With some researching and tracking links down, Viktor found Yuuri’s instagram and recognized a few of the places that the skater took selfies at. Yuuri had only been in Russia for at least two days, and he was already covering a lot of ground. Visiting a few museums, eating ice cream in a cozy spot, and encountering some international fans along the way. Moscow was four hours away from St. Petersburg. By train. He couldn’t stay there long since there was no one to take care of Makkachin. Viktor couldn’t leave his twelve year old baby boy behind. So even though he wanted to meet Yuuri, Makkachin was more important. As an old dog, Makkachin needed as much company as he could before resting in peace. That was the very _least_ Viktor could do for his old friend.

    So for two more days, Viktor stayed by Makkachin’s side and made sure that the poodle was content before he had to take a train ride to Moscow. Feeding Makkachin early, Viktor left a few big bowls of water for the poodle to drink from if he ever got thirsty. The bathroom door was open for Makkachin to use, and the old dog was smart enough to flush the toilet by himself. Whining and clawing at his owner’s ankles, Makkachin didn’t want Viktor to go. Turning around, Viktor squeezed Makkachin softly before leaving. It was just for a couple of hours and by lunchtime tomorrow, the two will eat together and everything will be okay. Viktor promised Makkachin that much.

    Armed with his skates and an outfit, Viktor slept through the four hour train ride to Moscow and stumbled into the station. Fastened his coat and marched into the snow. Ear muffs hugging his ears while a beige trench coat covered him from head to toe. A thick red scarf to keep the neck warm, and Viktor was on the move. Kicking the snow like a little kid with each step. Reading the signs and making his way to the house where the party was set at. Viktor wondered if Yuuri was lost, but most of the phone-carrying population had a GPS app of some kind. No need to worry.

    The host welcomed Viktor with open arms and led him to a vacant guest room so that he could practice, stretch, and get ready for the night. Doubting that there was an ice rink in the guest part of the house-- _or it should be called a mansion because of all the stairs!--_ Viktor settled on some stretches and practiced his leg work for his jumps. Making sure that his landings were secure and stable to cushion the impact. Feet fluttering down the hallways while his arms kept him steady in case of a fall. It had been a long time since Viktor was on his tippy toes.

    Dancing the hall with a simple ballet warmup, Viktor bumped into someone and knocked the person’s glasses onto the floor. The person went down, feeling the wooden floor for his glasses. Viktor bent down and grabbed them, poking the glasses back into the person’s hands. Blue, thick-framed glasses. Viktor had seen this before. Suddenly, he looked up and locked eyes with Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri scrambled back, stuttering some shaky Russian greetings before bowing his head. A grin cracked over Viktor’s face and when he hopped onto his feet, he greeted Yuuri back with a confident Japanese greeting. Yuuri’s ears perked up, and the skater lifted his head. Cinnamon eyes glistening under the hallway lights.

    To meet each other in the flesh for the first time was amazing for both skaters. After watching each other on TV screens and on YouTube videos, it was a nice change of pace to see a _Legend_ in action. Yuuri wanted some help on the technical aspects of his performance, and Viktor agreed to watch. Before getting into position, Yuuri slipped off his glasses and handed them Viktor. Mumbling that he did better when he couldn’t see. Viktor clipped the glasses onto his shirt collar and stood back, eyes locked on Yuuri when the other took his position.

    Though the performance was meant on ice, Yuuri was a magician in transposing the performance onto a wooden floor. Viktor couldn’t tear his eyes away. He heard the music in each jerk and fluid motion that erupted from Yuuri’s body. There were some stiff areas, and Viktor was pretty sure it wasn’t because Yuuri was on a wooden floor. When Yuuri finished, Viktor told him to run the routine again. Slower this time. Yuuri did just that, and Viktor came from behind and helped ease the tension that rocked Yuuri’s limbs. Hands melting from Yuuri’s arms and all the way down to the skater’s hips. Helping Yuuri achieve the “diva dip” and lunge that was crucial in the performance.

    At this point, Viktor was pretty much hugging Yuuri, and the Japanese skater was bright like a cherry tomato. Grabbing his glasses back, Yuuri excused himself afterwards and rushed back into his guest room. Viktor simply blinked, wondering what got Yuuri flustered. He will have to ask Yuuri later tonight at the party. And before Viktor knew it, it was time to perform. Sure, the Russian had a very _light_ meal with plenty of water to keep hydrated. His performance was first and then it’ll be followed by Yuuri’s. And by the end of it all, the rest of the night was for them to be at peace, probably to question each other and enjoy somewhere quiet with the other’s company.

    Remarkably, there was an ice rink in the middle of the mansion, and Viktor wondered why he didn’t notice it before. Tying on his skates, Viktor pushed his old body onto the ice and carved his signature down the middle before resting. A lone spotlight followed him when he slipped onto the ice. Spinning around as the music began and propped up one knee when the lyrics flowed through the speakers, onto the ice, and echoed within his bones. Crooked tie laced over and around his shoulders and neck. Flexible suit with rolled up sleeves, uneven with each other. Viktor embodied a lost, heartbroken soul. Finding Love for the first time.

    Rising to his feet, Viktor went through the motions of his routine. If he was too tired for a jump, Viktor made up story elements on the spot and drew the audience closer to the ice. Each twist and turn of his body snapped it back to its youthful ways, and Viktor attempted the jumps he had planned. Fluid motions, with the arms and legs telling the story while Viktor’s face remained solemn until the chorus kicked in and his face was alive. Spilling emotions onto the audience and grabbing the attention that was his. Cutting across his signature on the ice, Viktor ended the performance on a high note. Upright, facing the spotlight, and arms open wide for the audience’s love.

    Applause followed and Viktor bowed before skating off the rink. Anticipating Yuuri’s performance. Sitting on a bench, Yuuri was in costume. One thing was missing. He wanted more _red._ Applying a deep red over his lips, Yuuri wiped the excess off from the edge of his lips before he greeted Viktor with a casual hug. One hand patting Viktor’s back while the other cupped the skater’s cheek. _If there was anything casual about that._ Yuuri’s lipstick-stained thumb ran its mark across Viktor’s right cheek, and the Russian saw something he had never seen before from Yuuri. Instead of the free-spirited and adorkable skater that he was known for, Yuuri held himself with confidence. A seductive undertone shaded over his features before he leaned in, whispering that Viktor should keep his eyes on him.

    Viktor froze and barely turned around when Yuuri skated onto the ice. Was _this_ Yuuri, or was _this_ a persona Yuuri was playing? Either way, Yuuri had Viktor’s heart and the latter wanted it back. Sashaying his hips while he skated to the middle of the rink, Yuuri propped one leg away from the other. As if he was the lead in a tango. All that was missing was a rose, but Yuuri already had a lot of red over his lips. A Spanish guitar started in the background, and Yuuri’s arms moved along to the music before he blew a kiss to the audience.

    A low whistle escaped from Viktor’s lips when he felt the kiss land over his cheek. The passionate violin blasted in the background as Yuuri tangoed across the ice. A solo player for a game for two, looking for the partner that can complete the dance with him. The flick of his hair, the secretive grin throughout the performance, the swish of the black and red cape from behind with each jump, and Yuuri’s step sequence drilled into Viktor’s head until all he could see and think was Yuuri.

Yuuri and the dashing black and red that made him a woman and a man. Yuuri and the teasing winks and kisses. Yuuri and the swish of his hips when he got what he wanted. Yuuri and the anguish that spilled over his face when during the performance’s story, he realized that his Lover had left him and he was casted aside. Yuuri and a fiery wrath when he realized that he was the one that casted his Love away, determined to find his Love and bring them back home. Yuuri and the throw of his arms when he tried to catch his Lover before it was too late. Yuuri and his arms crossed when he was too late.

The spotlight faded away from the Japanese skater, and Viktor felt tears running down his face. Whoever had hurt Yuuri, Viktor vowed to never do the same. Wait, what did Viktor mean by that? Before he realized it, Yuuri had caught more than just his heart and attention.


End file.
